


Snowfall

by NothingImpossibleOnlyImprobable



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingImpossibleOnlyImprobable/pseuds/NothingImpossibleOnlyImprobable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from icecubelotr44 for Captain Swan + snowfall that kind of turned into something I had fun with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowfall

He heard the door slam as she came in, the stomp of her boots against the wooden floors sounding decidedly angry.

 _Uh oh,_ he thought.

He made his way to the front room to find her furiously ripping off layers of scarves, sweaters, and gloves, throwing each item to the floor as she went.

“Bad day, love?” he asked from the kitchen, unwilling to risk her wrath by getting _too_ close if it turned out she needed her space.

“The worst,” she muttered as she yanked down the zipper of her sweatshirt.  It refused to budge, and she let out a few choice words about the matter, words he’d not heard from her in a while.

 _Operation: Distraction_ , he decided, stepping forward.  He placed his hand gently on top hers over the offending zipper, and said, “Allow me.”

With a sigh of exasperation and a roll of her eyes, she removed her hand.  “Go ahead.  The thing won’t work, nothing works today.”

“Computers still giving you trouble at the station?” he asked softly, wiggling the small piece of metal from side to side.

She nodded, another eye roll at the mention of the machines she complained about only a hundred times in the last month.  “There’s no money for new ones, and these things are almost as old as you.”

“Hey!” he said, mocking indignation, his smile indicating otherwise.

“Yeah, sorry,” she muttered.  “I didn’t mean-”

He zipped the sweatshirt back up with a quick tug.

“You were supposed to be helping me take that _off_ , remember?” she said, her eyebrows furrowed sharply.

“I know, love,” he answered, releasing the zipper to reach for her hand instead.  “However, there are more important things to do right now.”  He tugged gently on their clasped hands, amused to feel her following as he led her to the back door, though each bit closer to the yard more a stomp than a step.

“Killian, it’s freezing outside, what are you-”

He ignored her and pulled open the door, her hand still tight in his as they stepped outside and down the steps to the snow-covered grass.  A fine dusting snow was falling gently as they crunched through the icy whiteness.

About halfway into the garden, he stopped and turned to face her, her hand still held tightly in his.

“Will you dance with me, Emma Swan?” he asked, holding out his hook.

“Da- Killian, are you- _what?!_ ” is all she managed, but he could see the anger falling away from her expression the longer she thought about his offer.

“Will you dance with me?” he repeated seriously.

“I, um…” she paused, watching him closely.  He only grinned in response.

“What the hell?” she said as she shook her head at him.

He reached across her back with his hook, pulling her close as he shifted his grasp on her hand until her fingers rested atop his.  He stepped forward, beginning the dance though the music was silent, the sound of crunching snow the only one in the garden as he led her through the steps they both knew so well.

“You’ve been practising,” he said.  “I hope it wasn’t with that other bloke I’ve seen you with at the station.”

“You mean my father?”

“That’s the one.”  He stopped to twirl her around on his fingers, pleased to see the faint beginnings of a smile creeping across her lips, all traces of her earlier upset gone, melted as surely as the snow that landed and promptly disappeared in her golden hair.

He leaned over to dip her and she laughed, puffs of her breath escaping her mouth and mingling with his own visible air.  When she came up again, he held her close, both arms around her as they swayed to their own melody.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly against his chest.

“Thank _you_ ,” he said, “for agreeing to dance with me on this beautiful day.”

She laughed again, hugging him closer against the chill in the air.  “Shut up and dance, pirate.”

“As you wish, love.”


End file.
